Star Wars: Conflict of Balance
by ChristopherGeorge
Summary: In the wake of the Mandalorian Wars, Jedi Knight Emera is caught between the light and dark sides of the force. Hurt and betrayed by the defection of her friend and former Jedi Riam, Emera is the only thing that stands between the rise of the Sith and the republic's core worlds.
1. Chapter 1

**STAR WARS  
** **Conflict of Balance  
** **by Christopher George**

 **Chapter One**

The Stars looked particularly bright as they gleamed through open chasm that loomed over the command deck. Then again, Emera reflected, the stars always seemed brighter during battle. The harsh glare of exploding ships seemed to bring the background into sharp focus. Emera stood solitary on a burning deck surrounded by the corpses of the bridge crew. She paid no care to the death surrounding here. Her focus was solely on the cruiser that was firing upon them. She could see it clearly, though it was still some distance away. It seemed almost so close she could reach out and touch it through the shield that protected her. She knew every inch of that cruiser, after all she was standing on one very much like it.

The ship rocked as the enemy cannons tore across the foredeck, the bright flare of the shields erupted across the command deck that protected her from the destruction that had wrought the rest of her ship. As she glanced out she could see small flickers of flight, bursting into vision and then quickly disappearing. It was almost beautiful; they were like dozens of new stars being born and then quickly fading into darkness. Emera didn't need to be told what the light meant though. She could feel it. They were snub fighters exploding in shrapnel.

Through the force she felt each death of the pilots, both those that served her and those that served her enemy. Each terror stricken moment before that fateful last gasp was brought to her through the force. She remained with them until the end. It was the least she could do. She wondered if they could feel her presence as she sought to bring them comfort and peace in their final moments. She liked to think that they could.

"You're losing. You know this." a harsh voice burst into her head. She quickly glanced at the control panel to the left, hoping against hope that the sound had come from the panel. No such luck. The panel was beyond repair, much like the rest of her ship. it was little more than a burning console with smoldering wires hanging from the ceiling.

She didn't bother to answer the unwanted intruder in her head. No words of hers would placate him. She knew this all too well from past experience. Her hands gritted into fists as she attempted to ignore the unwanted advances, but the voice was relentless.

"This is the end my Lady," the voice continued, "There is no need for this to continue. But give the word and I will be merciful. I will allow your men to live."

Emera wasn't taken in by words whispering promises in her head. She knew them for what they were. Lies - Riam was the prince of lies. He wouldn't allow anyone who had stood against him to walk away from this. Only complete dominion would satisfy him.

"The Republic is finished, it is pointless to continue this," Riam pressed, "You need only submit and all this will be over. Lord Revan is right. The old must be washed away so that the strong might rise."

Emera sneered at Revan's logic. She'd dismissed it the first time she had heard it. She had no interest in hearing it parroted by Riam. Emera's hands almost went to the lightsaber hanging from her belt and gritted her teeth to curb the impulse. Her enemy was far away. Her act had only announced her fear and Riam would have sensed it through the force. Riam, to his credit didn't mention the lapse and Emera calmly moved her hands back to her sides and attempted to find the calm that would make it possible to bring the power of the force to bear.

"I have men on your ship, you know," Riam murmured, almost conversationally, "They have orders to bring you to me. One way or another, you will be brought before me. I have foreseen it."

"I'll kill them." Emera hissed, letting her anger once again overwhelm her control. As the anger washed over her, the battle outside the window receded and her world was once again limited by her own senses with one notable exception - Riams voice.

"Oh no, My Lady," Riam mocked, "You won't. You know you won't. You might be able to lie to yourself, but you cannot lie to me."

With a growl Emera pulled her lightsaber from her belt and held it in her hands. Its weight provided a sense of familiar comfort as it fit snuggly into her calloused hands. It felt right. When Riam's soldiers came she would overcome them and save what remained of her crew. She knew that they would be coming for her first and once they had collected her, they would deal with the rest of the ship. They would simply blow it from the sky. Riam wouldn't care about saving lives then.

It didn't take long for them to arrive. Emera had expected at any moment to hear the sound of a cutting laser applied to the door, or perhaps the sudden discharge of explosives breaking the door down. She tensed and readied herself for what would hopefully be a quick battle that would soon be over. She didn't expect was a simple knock on the door.

"Lady Emera," a polite voice called through the door, "We are here to escort you to the Lord Riam."

The door opened smoothly several seconds later, they must have hacked into the main controls. This wasn't surprising, with the bridge in the state it was, there was very little to stop them from gaining control of the ship. An honour guard to troops marched into the room in state uniform.

"Lady Emera," the officer bowed, "We have come to rescue you."

Had they been wearing body armour, and bearing weapons, the battle would have been over in seconds, but she couldn't kill them, not like this. Not when they thought they were rescuing her. She scanned their minds and her fears were confirmed. She could almost hear Riam cackling to himself. He had bet these men's lives in this gambit, but it wasn't much of a gamble. He knew her, he knew her like no other had. He knew that she would have no choice but to comply. Her shoulders slumped in defeat and the lightsaber hung dully in her fingers.

"My Lady, we will need to be quick," the officer smiled, as he ushered her forward. His mind was tense, ready to battle, but not expecting an attack from her. What lies had Riam told him? Given time Emera would have been able to pull the information from the officer's mind, but time was something that she sorely lacked. She needed to do something; she just had no idea what. Unfortunately her options were kill the troops, which she was loath to do or submit.

She chose submit. Placing her lightsaber back on her belt, she nodded briefly and allowed the soldiers to surround her. They didn't even try to take her weapon. As she glanced around each of the soldiers was blissfully unaware that they were guarding someone who could and would take their lives in an instant in normal circumstances. It wasn't even really their fault that they were on the wrong side of this conflict. Civil wars are kind of difficult like that. It's the leaders who make the decisions. The average fighting man has more in common with their direct opposition than their commanders. Riam had chosen to betray the republic. She had remained true. It doesn't get any simpler than that. That wasn't going to help these men though.

"It brings you pleasure, Doesn't it my lady?" Riam whispered, "to know the power you have over these. They are nothing compared to us. You could end their lives at any point, but you won't. You can't. I know you. You're already walking the dark path. You need only admit it. Embrace it. Kill them and your journey will be complete."

Emera bit back a sharp retort as she was marched through the corridors of her ship. She wasn't surprised to see the blackened walls and bodies of her crew as they had fallen in battle. Parts of the ship were open to space, the glimmering sparkle of containment shields all that kept the rest of the ship from explosive decompression.

Emera walked as if she was compliant, but her mind was working overtime, planning, assessing risks, rejecting and then starting again. The ship rocked as the shields failed and several blasts from the enemy cruiser wracked the hull. The klaxon's blared through corridors as redundancy systems were deployed. The ship was taking one hell of a beating.

"Come My lady, we don't have much time." The officer murmured, "We must hurry."

Through the force Emera could see that the mains sole concern was truly for her safety. There was no deception in his words. She gritted her teeth in frustration. Riam was right. She couldn't kill these men now. She knew where they were leading her. There was a secondary hanger bay used for resupply into the command tower. It wasn't designed for heavy fighters, but a light craft could have docked with the main port and gained access to the bridge. If this was their destination, then she only had a few minutes to figure out what to do. She really had no interest in going with them but doubted that anything less than their deaths would stop them from bringing her before Riam.

Unfortunately, that decision was taken from her hands. Just as the force had alerted her that something was wrong a blaster bolt rang out, followed by several shouts from the down the corridor. The shot went wide, but immediately her honour guard sprang into action. Emera was tackled from behind and pushed firmly against the bulkhead to protect her whilst the rest dropped into firing position. It was difficult to see what was going on through the smoke and haze of the laser blasted corridor. But through the force everything was clear. Some of her crew had found them and were attempting to rescue her. She sighed deeply. She had hoped to avoid this, but there was nothing for it. If the choice was between the lives of those who swore to defend her and those who had sworn to defend Riam. There was no choice.

With a howl, she pushed out with the force immediately shattering the bodies of the soldiers who had pressed against her and sending their broken corpses flying out in all directions. Her lightsaber sprang from her belt with accustomed ease and found its way into her outstretched hand. With a loud hiss the blue blade sprang to life and lanced through several other soldiers who had had the misfortune to be standing too close to her. Caught between the Jedi in their midst and the blaster fire from the hall there was very little chance of survival for her would-be captors.

"Surrender your men!" Emera hissed as her blade passed bare inches from the officer's face, "No more need to die today."

The officer gulped deeply as he stared into the depths of the icy blue blade that must have encompassed his whole world. His eyes switched rapidly between the blade and Emera as he considered his options. He didn't have many. His shoulders slumped in defeat. He waved his hand and his soldiers threw their blasters to the ground.

"Get it over with," he sighed, "You're just going to kill us anyway."

"What's your name Soldier?" Emera demanded.

"SEC 1434" he grunted and had to suppress an urge to salute. It was good that he managed to resist as a salute now would have taken his hand from his wrist. Emera could see beads of perspiration slowly slide from the officers face as he stared into the oblivion that awaited him.

"That wasn't what I asked. " Emera sighed with contempt. Given his age, it was likely that he had once been a republic soldier, she could only hope that something remained of the honour that he had once had.

"Reymand, Reymand Hapsburg." the officer gulped.

"Well Raymand, no more of your men are going to die today."

It was an easy promise to make, but Emera wasn't sure that she was going to be able to keep this one. After all, it wouldn't help these men at all should her cruiser get shot out from underneath her. But she would need to deal with that one step at a time. As loyal troops emerged from the corridor, she switched off her blade and deftly returned it to her belt.

"Lady Emera," one of the soldiers saluted, "We heard the command deck had been hit, we feared the worst."

Emera waved them off as they began to take up positions and collected the blaster rifles from Raim's men. Emera sighed with relief when she recognized one of the officers approaching from the corridor. The grizzled face of one of her senior commanders was a sight for sore eyes. Orne Camar had been with her since that left the republic. He had been a good and reliable officer. It was good to know that he had survived this massacre.

"What do we do with this lot?" Orne flicked a thumb at the prisoners.

"Lock them in the Brig." Emera waved casually, "How many men do we have?"

"Hard to say really," Orne sighed, "There's sporadic fighting on most of the top decks, we still control the hangers, but it's only a matter of time. I don't know why they haven't blasted us out of the sky yet."

"Because our fighters are keeping their bombers busy," Emera informed him, "We're trading blows with their capital ships. There are three of them and one of us, but we're a tough ship. There's still time."

Emera only hoped that she was telling the truth. The force was remarkably silent on this fact, but then when she was in close proximity to Riam her abilities to see the future had always become clouded. She had once thought it was because of her feelings for him, now she wasn't so sure. Her feelings were dead. His betrayal had burned any such feelings from her heart. Together they had followed Revan into the Mandalorian Wars, together they had fought and when the wars were done and Revan called his followers to the dark side. Riam chose to follow. She did not. Now she was the only thing that stood between Revan's fleet and easy access to the core worlds. She couldn't fail in her mission. Should Revan find his way into the core worlds, she didn't like to think of the massacre that would follow.

"Your orders?" Orne saluted, as his men began to lead the prisoners away.

"Who's in charge?"

"Admiral Ghir, He's on the flight deck."

"Let's go."

"You'll never make it," Riam's voice echoed throughout her head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Riam was wrong. The flight deck command centre was a mess, but unlike the bridge it was still functional. Everywhere that Emera looked she saw the destruction caused by the almost constant bombardment. Something was going to give soon and at three to one odds, it wasn't likely to be the enemy.

"Lady Emera," Admiral Ghir bowed, "Thank the force you're all right."

Emera nodded slightly as the Admiral related their situation. The ship had sustained heavy damage, but fortunately, as Emera had noted the Radiant was a sturdy ship. The admiral continued with his assessment, but unfortunately the admiral's gravelly voice was drowned out by the ever-present dialogue from Riam.

"These people's deaths will be on your head," Riam whispered, "Submit and I will show mercy. All I want is you. You're all I ever wanted. Ever since we were children. Don't you remember?"

Emera did remember and once she had felt the same. Once they had been young and in love. Once they had been righteous, once they had had a future. They had never voiced their love, but I must have been obvious to everyone around them. It had been discouraged by the order and whilst she was sure that their master had known how they had felt. He hadn't felt the need to intervene or comment. This was their folly. The Jedi discourage such attachments, but it wasn't forbidden.

Against her will Emera's mind was forced back into the past as she reflected upon the path that had led them there. They had both been trained by the prestigious Jedi Master Ketaris. They had been taken from their separate home worlds and brought to Master Ketaris's home planet of Umari. Emera hadn't thought much of Riam when they had first met, but then he was little more than a scruffy boy and she a noblewoman from her planet. They were worlds apart, yet when he first spoke to her it felt like she had known him all her life. An instant spark had formed between them.

"I didn't know there could be girl Jedi's" Riam's young voice had been high pitched and nervous. He had blurted it in a fit of nervousness. She knew that he hadn't meant it as an insult. His view of the universe had been so sheltered. He had been raised from rags, living on the streets with no one to care for him. It was only through exceedingly good fortune and the will of the force that he had been found by the Jedi and his true potential had been discovered.

"Of course, there are girl Jedi," Young Emera had replied, "and I'm going to be the greatest of them."

She had really thought that once, but then she too had been far younger than her worldly composure would have led someone to believe. She was only a year older than Riam when they had met, but she had helped him, consoled him, comforted him when he missed his home and he had done the same for her. Master Ketaris hadn't been a harsh master, but he had been a stoic one. He tolerated no weakness from his students. His lessons were firm and he made no apology for that. He claimed that he was raising Jedi, not raising children. This had been particularly difficult for Riam. He hadn't exactly had a particularly structured life up until that point. He had a strong proclivity for the force though, his power had been astounding. He grasped the subtleties of the force like he had been born to it. Through him, Emera felt her own connection to the force strengthen. As they learned they instinctively passed on their teachings to the other. What one would learn, the other would acquire as if they had simply remembered a long lost talent. Although they lives had been simple and stark. They had been happy. Looking back Emera realized that she probably could have lived quite happily for the rest of her life learning the secrets of the force on Umari, but that wasn't to be.

It happened so suddenly – The Mandalorians attacked the Republic. Emera watched as the casualties and reports of the battles came in from the core worlds. tales of the brutality of their enemy and the massacres that they had wrought. It had seemed like nothing was going to stop them. Then Revan came. When Revan had called forth the Jedi to join the war she had Riam were just shy of twenty years at the time, old enough to be an adult, but still young for a Jedi.

When Revan called it hadn't been Riam that had insisted that they go. It had been Emera. One of the worlds plundered by the Mandalorians had been her own homeworld. She wasn't supposed to have strong feelings about that, but she did. She raged that while the Mandalorians burned across the galaxy the republic seemingly did nothing. He railed against the edict of the Jedi council that they were not to interfere. She had been contemplating leaving her training to return home. She had spoken to no one of her plans, but with Riam she hadn't needed to voice them. He had known.

Nothing else could have brought him forth from his studies. He hadn't hesitated. He had already discussed the matter with Master Ketaris and sought permission to leave. Permission hadn't been given. Master Ketaris had claimed that they hadn't finished their studies, that they hadn't reached their potential yet. Ketaris had always droned on about a Jedi's potential. No act of expertise, no matter how spectacular ever measured up to the potential that Ketaris sought from his students. In the end his permission hadn't mattered they had gone anyway.

Ketaris had been angry when Emera and Riam had left, but by that stage it was too late. They no longer listened to their former Master, they had found new Masters to teach them, new Masters that were schooling them in the arts of war.

The war was like nothing that Emera had expected. In the harsh jungles of Dxun they finally met their enemy. The Mandalorians were a brutal foe. They paid no heed to the niceties of the war and the Jedi paid a grievous price for every misstep. For five years Emera and Riam fought on the Dxun moon against an enemy that gave no quarter, gave no ground and each success was sorely gained. In battle Emera found that her affinity with Riam was a valuable asset. Alone they were dangerous, together they were lethal. They formed a maelstrom of power in the force together. Each of their weaknesses cancelled out by the other's strong. They were unstoppable.

There were none that could stand against them when they were aligned in battle. No Mandarlorian Warlord, No ravager, even other Jedi on the training grounds. As the shroud of combat took them their minds became one and their bodies seemed to merge into one single mind of purpose. It was intoxicating; it was the thrill of the surrender to the will of the force, combined with the thrill of dominion over those who so desperately deserved the judgement of the Jedi. Each day Emera looked forward to the battle that would inevitably come, a battle where she would be joined in soul with Riam once more and could unleash their power against a foe who deserved no mercy.

As their successes mounted they gained notoriety, their feats even coming into the attention of Lord Revan. This had been Emera's proudest day. A commendation had arrived from Revan along with a promotion and the command of a fleet. They were to meet the enemy not as grunt soldiers, but as admirals. Had they thought themselves dangerous on the ground, they had only just begun to show their potential. In the seats of a Starfighter the two were unbeatable. Their battle trance which had only been experienced in single combat also applied to the battle of the stars. Despite the distance between their fighters, the thrill of the battle was the same. The bonding and deepening of their connection through the force made them a force in themselves. The Mandalorians couldn't hope to stand against them. It was like a drug and everyday Emera wanted more.

Whole Mandalorian Fleets fell before them as their cruisers pushed their way deep into Mandalorian territory and towards the conclusion of the war. Emera and Riam hadn't been present at the final battle on Malachor V. They had been tasked with mopping up the remains of a shattered Mandalorian fleet that had been swept aside as Revan's fleet unleashed its master stroke into the heart of the Mandalorian empire. They hadn't seen the battle with their eyes, but they had felt it through the force. In one single terrible moment they had felt the deaths, the massacre, and the sheer magnitude of the explosion that had ended the battle. After Malachor V everything was different. They spent the next year mopping up bands of Mandalorians too stupid to realise the battle was done. The war had lasted more than fifteen years, and for twelve of them Emera and Riam had been on the front lines. No longer a child and no longer a padawan, Emera had thought that her job was done, that she could return to her people. She was done with the Jedi. They had allowed this atrocity to happen, had they acted more swiftly then it wouldn't have taken Revan's defiance to bring it to an end. No one had heard of Revan and Malak since the battle. Everyone had assumed that they had perished in their master stroke.

Then the call came. Revan had returned, and everything was different. Emera realized at once that this was not the former General who had led them to greatness. Bearing the trappings of the long forgotten Sith empire, Revan took the title Darth and called out to former allies to join in battle once again. This time against the Republic that he claimed had been the cause of the Mandalorian atrocity. Revan called the Republic too weak to be allowed to dictate the path of its future. It would need to fall, so that a stronger empire could rise - an Empire that would not allow the mistakes of the past to happen again.

Emera should have rejoiced at the call. Revan's words mirrored her own thoughts in the darkness of the night. Revan had promised everything that she had once sought. A justice against the foolish old masters who had sat on their high throne in Coruscant, whilst brave and honest men gave their lives, the Jedi had deliberated and squandered the power that they had been given. The old masters should have used that power to protect the republic. They hadn't. Instead they had exiled every Jedi who had left to join Revan. Emera hadn't cared. She was done with the Jedi anyway.

Emera should have been ecstatic at Revan's words, but something was different. Revan was no longer as she had remembered. Maybe Revan had changed, maybe she had. It didn't matter. Emera didn't want this anymore. She didn't want to lead troops into battle. She didn't want to cradle the dying. She didn't even really rejoice anymore over dominion of her foes. She was done with war.

She had thought that Riam would have felt the same way that she had. He had certainly always felt the same way she had. She had never doubted this. She had come to trust that he would share the same views on any matter. They had always been of one mind. Every time, Except this one time – this one time that it mattered.

She hadn't known how much Riam had hungered for the opportunity that Revan promised. In his mind Emera could see the trappings of power and dominion that had taken hold over him. Had they always been there? Had she never noticed? Or had her closest friend also changed? Had she been changed also? The moment of doubt was all it took for the rift to form between them. Had it been just a difference of opinion they might have been able to reconcile, but it was far more than that. Only an act of brutality would.

As Revan's orders swept through the fleet, those still loyal to the republic, perhaps those who had family in the core worlds or those who didn't want the harsh gauntlet of war to touch their home worlds refused to heed to Revan's call. It started as small isolated fights between those who thought Revan was right and those who thought otherwise. It didn't just end in small fights, soon enough a pogrom tore through the fleet as loyal officers and fleet crew were murdered by their former allies. Those who refused to swear fealty to Darth Revan and the new Sith empire were purged. At the head of the mutiny was a newly crowned Lord Riam. No longer a General, no longer a Jedi. Riam had become something that she no longer recognized. The darkness had finally taken him.

She didn't know if it was a twisted form of love, or if it was cowardice that wouldn't allow Riam to turn on her initially, but he had refused to denounce her or turn her over to his minions. She watched in futile desperation for far too long as he slaughtered a swath through troops that had once been loyal to them both and to the republic. Then she could finally take it no more. She rallied what troops she could save that were still loyal and broke off from the main fleet, stealing several heavy cruisers and support craft. It was a small fleet, yet it was enough. She had a plan. She quickly destroyed several hyperspace beacons that would lead the Sith fleet deeper into the core worlds. It had been an act of desperation as she knew that Revan would need those routes, without them Revan would need to secure new paths to achieve his goals. It would allow time for the Republic to muster a response.

She had felt Riam's fury as he had discovered what she had done from across the sector. He rallied what remained of their once great fleet and turned it in new purpose towards hunting down and destroying her. For six months she had eluded Riam's forces. For six months she had fought him. For six months she had railed that she would be forced to kill Riam and mourned the loss of what he once been. For six months she played a deadly game of cat and mouse with Riam's forces, but in the end. He had the numbers. More of the fleet had chosen to follow him. She was fighting a losing battle and she knew it. Time was running out.

"There is even less time than you know." Riams voice interjected into her past, "Join me. I don't want to kill you. Everything I have done – I have done for you. You must join me. Revan is coming."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Revan is coming," Riam finished lamely, as he stared across the void onto the derelict ship that his cruisers were slowly turning into slag. How much more bombardment could it withstand. Every moment that passed could lead to the inevitable moment where the shields would completely fail and the hull would crumble. Why was she still defying him? Where had she found this strength from? Even now after all that had happened he had to fight back the urge to call off the bombardment. Terror gripped him as he imaged the ship exploding into shrapnel with her still on. It was like torture to know for certain that she was gone was like looking into the abyss. He could barely stand it. He kept his fingers clenched behind his back into fists as he fought the urge to call off the attack.

His bridge officers were giving him a wide berth as he stalked up and down the command deck. his eyes never leaving the hull of Emera's cruiser. Every time an explosion rocked the surface of the enemy cruiser his fingers clenched painfully into his palms as if this was going to be the explosion that would cause the chain reaction that would finally bring down the ship.

"Lord Riam," a voice called hesitantly from across the bridge. The officer's voice was firm, but behind the words Riam could sense the fear that consumed him. It had taken almost everything the officer had to summon the strength to interrupt him. Riam made note of the officer, fear was not something that he wanted from one on his bridge crew. These soldiers needed to follow their orders without question. One soldier giving into his fear would lead to others and Riam wouldn't stand for that. This soldier would soon find himself posted to a different section of the ship on his next rotation - A position far less critical to the running of the ship.

"Darth Malak demands that you make contact with him." the Bridge officer's voice trailed off at the end.

Riam's heart leapt into his throat at the words. He couldn't make contact with Malak this far out with the hyperspace relay beacons destroyed, he would need to withdraw. He had no choice. These orders must be followed. Darth Malak was Reven's second. His word was almost as if the command had come from Reven. Riam had no choice but to disengage and make contact with his master.

"Very well," Riam rumbled, as he turned his back on the bridge crew, "Begin withdrawing the fighters, and cease the bombardment. Pull our cruisers back and prepare for hyperspace.

"The closest beacon was approximately six hours away. The drone that would have delivered Darth Malak's orders had most likely been at least eight hours in transit. Malak would not be pleased when Riam finally responded after so long. Riam gulped as he considered what this new information meant. Why had Malak summoned him? His orders had come from Revan. What had changed? Was he being called to judgment because of his failure to protect the hyperspace lanes? It was possible. Malak was not the forgiving type. Riam had known the man a long time, having served directly under him in the final years of the Mandalorian Wars. He had thought Malak had died on Malachor V, but he had been wrong. He may as well have died though, since Malak had returned from the unknown regions he hadn't been the same. The Malak of old had been forceful and passionate, but he had listened to his subordinates. Malak now was unbalanced. He was quick to anger, quick to strike and far more powerful.

He now almost glowed with the power of the dark side. But it was ironic really, for all this new power that he wielded, he was lesser than he had previously been. Power was nothing without control. His strategic and analytical mind had been completely overpowered. Brute force was the only tactic he employed. It was good that the same couldn't be said for Lord Revan. Where the dark side had lessened Malak, it had burned Revan to new heights of power.

Riam continued his vigil as he watched his fighters withdraw from the battle and return to the flight deck. He watched as Emera's crippled cruiser drifted in space, listing to one side and surrounded by a ring of its debris. He doubted that the cruiser was functional. Perhaps everyone onboard was dead anyway. Perhaps too much damage had been done and the cruiser was only minutes away from a critical explosion. Perhaps Emera was already dead, fallen to one of the many blasts from his turbo cannons.

He could have reached out through the force and known for certain, but he didn't. Should he do that he would again touch minds with Emera and that was too painful. Her betrayal was too close to bear. Let her be dead on that ship, or if she still live, let her slink off into the unknown. Let her die on some forgotten world far from him. Riam sighed wistfully. He could lie to those around him all he wanted, but he couldn't lie to himself. He reached out through the force and connected with her once again. He had already known that she had lived anyway. He would have felt her death.

"You will stand before me," Riam whispered, "I have seen it. It will come to pass. As usual Emera didn't answer, but he could feel her. He could feel her anger, feel her desperation. She was almost at breaking point. He could feel it. He could almost reach out and break her through the force. It would be so easy, but he didn't want that. He wanted her to stand by his side as an equal, not as some broken plaything. The force rippled around him as Emera shut him out. He had touched a nerve. Had she sensed his motives? Had she been able to read him as easily as he had her? No, impossible. He was far more powerful than he had once been and she was weakened and tired. There was no way that she could have read him.

The force didn't feel as it once had. Before the war it had been like he had been standing on a beach with calm water out in all directions and a breeze on his face as he directed his thoughts towards the force. It didn't feel that way now. Now the calm water was replaced by a raging inferno, the water beat down upon the rocks of the beach in fury as he stood before it. In place of the breeze there was now a hurricane. This was the power of the dark side. He knew it instinctively. He hadn't had to be told what it was. It had always been with him. He had always known of its power. It's just that his masters had told him to ignore it. They had taught him that to use the power of the dark side was to fall to it. He hadn't fallen yet, or at least he didn't think he had. Did one know when one had fallen to the dark side? Was it a conscious choice? Riam didn't know. All he knew was that the force had made him more powerful than he had ever been. There was only one thing missing – Emera. Once Emera stood by his side not even Revan wouldn't be able to stand against them.

The Fleet is ready to jump to hyperspace, Milord," a crisp voice cut into Riam's thoughts, "We may jump on your command.

The warning had been unnecessary; there was no way that Riam hadn't noticed the fighters docking with the cruiser bays below. He couldn't have helped but noticed the ship altered its trajectory to jump to hyperspace. Riam took one last look at Emera's crippled cruiser until it left his view.

"The Command is given," Riam rumbled as he stormed from the command deck, "Once we are in range of the Leviathan, notify me. I will be in my chambers."

It took only two hours until the comm buzzed, letting Riam know that Malak was on the line. This was surprising. Malak mustn't be with the fleet. Where was he then? A sliver of fear rippled through Riam as he pondered what this new information might mean. Was Malak on his way here? Riam took a deep breath and steadied himself. It would not do for Malak to see him unbalanced. He breathed out as his anger washed over him at the weakness. Instantly, his fears vanished as his mental walls rose. No, Malak would not sense any weakness from him today.

Riam flicked his fingers to dim the lights and lock the door. A second gesture activated the holo projector in his room. The massive visage of Darth Malak consumed the far side of the wall across from him. Riam was forced to suck in his breath as the Dark lords baleful glare dominated the room. The Dark lord's eyes pierced through the void and directly into Riam's soul, but that wasn't what had surprised him. Malak was missing the lower part of his jaw and face. Where his mouth should be there was now a metal visor. It took everything that Riam had not to keep his surprise from his face. He knew that Malak would not condone any form of shock or sympathy. Any attempts at familiarity would be met with the Dark Lords rage. The first pin pricks of fear began to assault the iron mental walls that Riam had built around himself.  
"Lord Riam," The Dark lords voice synthesized voice rumbled, "Explain yourself. The voice was as Riam remembered, albeit with a new mechanical lilt. It contained the same arrogance and fury that Riam had expected from Malak, made worse by the mechanical coldness of the synthesizer. It was almost like talking to a machine, except that machine's couldn't hate and hate was all that Riam could sense from Malak now.

"Explain? My lord?"Riam raised an eyebrow. Riam wouldn't play this game. He knew that he was being baited. Malak had already been aware of the loss of the hyperspace beacons and that there was very little that anyone could have done to prevent it.  
"Your failure to protect the hyperspace routes into the core worlds." Malak continued, "Your obsessive chase of a single Jedi as blinded you to the greater campaign. You have wasted enough time on this foolish crusade."

Riam was about to interject, but Malak cut him off, his metallic voice cutting out all other noises.

"Further failure will not be tolerated. You are to pull your fleet back to Rumarh. You are to blockade the planet and await my further instructions."

"…But, the Jedi," Riam interjected, "She could hurt our cause further. I almost have her."

"I do not care about the fate of a single Jedi." Malak rumbled, his voice rising in mechanical fury. Riam knew in that moment, that Malak knew of Riam's designs for Emera. He knew everything. In that single second, the Dark Lord tore down the walls that had been protecting Riam, and Riam knew Fear. It tore into his very fabric through the Dark Lords gaze. Darth Malak let the moment linger before issuing his commands. Riam could sense the pleasure that Malak took from extending this moment.

"A delegation of Jedi from Dantooine is being sent to Rumahr, You will be our welcoming committee. The survivors will join us or die."Malak's orders rippled through the chamber as the transmission was terminated.

Riam sat in the darkness for several minutes before he was able to collect his thoughts. He had wondered, only several hours ago, what falling to the dark side looked like. He now knew. What had remained of the Jedi Malak from before the war was gone. In its place was only Darth Malak - There was nothing else left. Was he going to fall to the same fate? He feared he might. That didn't matter though. Only one thing mattered - Emera. Once she was by his side, Malak wouldn't matter. They would depose him and take his place at Revan's feet.

Riam gave the orders to the command deck to alter their course to Rumarh and issued instructions for the rest of his fleet to join them. Twenty Cruisers - more than enough to take the planet. He had never been to Rumarh, although it had been a major world in the supply line that had fed Revan's forces during the Mandalorian wars. It was possible that he had perhaps defended it from Mandalorian forces – there were a lot of planets that he had defended. It was ironic that now he would be the one to attack it.

It made sense that the Jedi would now seek use Rumarh as a command post. It was an important world in the Outer Rim. He briefly wondered what defenses the planet had, but it was more of a curiosity than any sense of worry. The planet would have no cruisers. Curiously enough, he was now sitting on one the cruisers that originally been built to protect it. Their defenses would be insufficient to withstand his attack - Of that he was certain.

Riam clasped his fingers in front of him as he sought to find the balance that would allow him to draw upon the force and renew himself. It was getting harder and harder with every passing day. What had once been as simple as rising from a slumber now took effort. The balance wouldn't come in the tornado that the dark side had conjured within him. He gritted his teeth as his failure inevitably led to anger and from his anger then rose the necessary clarity to draw upon the force. Riam smiled as the force washed over him and bowed his head as he went through the processes of rebuilding the mental walls that Malak had just torn down. He couldn't allow such a lapse again, How had the Dark lord so easily overcome his defenses? Humiliation gave way to rage and Riam threw that into his work. He methodically tore through his psyche destroying anything that would bring weakness, anything that could be used against him, until at least he reached the core of his centre. The place where he couldn't lie to himself, the one place where he was truly vulnerable and the one place he didn't dare destroy. It was the place that Emera held within him. Her loss was like a needle in his mind that he couldn't pull free. It was like a wound that wouldn't heal. It was killing him, it was killing them both. He could feel it. He could feel her loss everything he made contact.

"You will join me," He whispered through the void of hyperspace, "You will seek me out, and you will join with me."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"The Enemy Fighters appear to be withdrawing." a voice called from across the smashed flight deck. The voice was tinted with disbelief and Emera didn't blame the deck officer. It made no sense. It was difficult through the wreckage to make sense of the battle, but from the remaining view screens it seemed that the voice was correct. With the ship in such a state it was impossible to confirm the enemy's movements.

Emera glanced at the screens in confusion. Why was Riam retreating? It made no sense. He had them on the ropes. The ship was his for the taking. There was probably only a half a dozen fighters defending her. Once had had mopped them up, he could bring his bombers in and finish the vessel easily. Why leave now?

Through the Force Emera reached out and found to her amazement that the deck officer was correct. Riam was pulling his fighters back to his Cruisers. Loyal fighters were pursuing, but they would break off long before they reached the Cruisers.

"Confirmed Sir," The Deck officer continued, "Gold Three has visual. The fighters are withdrawing."

A sense of astonished joy came over the bridge crew. Broad smiles were exchanged between officers that only seconds before were saying silent prayers and goodbyes to their loved ones. It defied all belief, but it looked like they might survive this encounter after all. It was a miracle that they had all prayed for, yet none had dared believe would happen.

This had the feeling of some form of elaborate trap, but it was difficult to deny the truth right before their yes. Riam's ships were indeed withdrawing. Emera exchanged a look of wary resignation with the Admiral as the enemy bombers docked with their cruisers and the ships turned to make the jump to hyperspace. The cruisers were still exchanging fire, but as the enemy cruisers altered their position to make the jump this too faltered as the guns were angled in a new direction. As the enemy's bombardment upon the cruiser stopped, an unsettled silence fell over the ship. It was strange, but the silence seemed louder than the sounds of the bombardment that only seconds ago rung throughout the corridors as the hull of the cruiser was devastated by the enemy turbo lasers.

It wasn't until Riam's cruisers disappeared into a sudden burst of momentum indicating hyperspace that Emera realized that she'd been holding her breath. It was over. Against all the odds they had somehow survived. A shiver of fear trickled across her. This wasn't right. When she had consulted the force before the battle she had been so sure of the outcome. This ships fate had been sealed. She had seen this ship burning as Riam had bombarded it. She had seen the ship explode into star light. This wasn't what the Force had shown her would happen.

She had been content with her sacrifice. She had accomplished her mission. She had delayed the rebellious fleet long enough for the republic to muster some kind of response. She was prepared to die out here in the unknown, if it meant that Revan would be stopped by a republic fleet that her sacrifice had allowed them to rally. She should have died here. She had seen it.

Had she been honest with herself she would have admitted that she had been looking forward to death. She was so tired and the fighting never seemed to end. She had thought it was over with the end of the Mandalorian wars, but then came Darth Revan and the fighting was now starting again. There seemed to be no end. Emera wanted out. She was done with battle, she was done with death, and no matter in what direction she looked that was all she could see.

Once the enemy cruisers had left the system, Admiral Ghir burst into action, sending technicians in all directions to assess the damage to the cruiser, initiate repairs and to rescue those injured in the battle. Emera rested against a smashed console as her weariness finally began to overcome her. Surrounding her the deck crew sprang to their duties. There would be very little rest for anyone this day. The ship needed to be assessed and repaired. There was still danger that the hull would breach and the ship would explode from existing damage. Repair teams were already being sent out into the vacuum of space to repair the large craters that dotted across the hull of the crippled republic cruiser.

"You should rest my lady," Orne Camar advised, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, "When was the last time you slept? We shall be here for some time it seems."

"Slept properly?" Emera shrugged wearily, "About a week."

Orne smiled wearily, "Come this way, my lady. We have prepared quarters."

Emera nodded gratefully, although she knew better than anyone that she would be getting no sleep tonight. like the repair teams, she too had a job that she needed to fulfill. Riam had run away when he was winning. Why? It made no sense. Something else was at play here and she needed to know what. It was very important that she learn this secret. Emera ran her hands through her tangled hair as she contemplated her old friend turned foe. Riam never did anything without purpose. What was the purpose of this? Had he withheld his hand for fear of killing her? Had he simply changed his mind or had a new prize presented itself that he couldn't resist. What had changed? Emera desperately needed to know. Their lives may very well depend upon it.

She and Orne marched through the scorched corridors of the flight deck and the damage to the vessel was blatantly clear to see. Orne led her to a small room where they had hastily set up a cot and blankets. It was sparse but it would do. It was gratefully free of the stench of scorched circuit board and smoldering metal. It would do. Emera gratefully thanked Orne and walked through the door into the room.

"We'll wake you once we know what condition we're in." Orne promised as the door hissed closed. With the door closed, the only light in the room was the emergency lighting on the floor that bathed the whole room in a garish red light. It gave the room an evil feel, but it was dull enough that should she had attempted to sleep she would have been able to. Unfortunately and unknown to Orne – she had no intention of sleeping.

Emera sat cross legged on the cot and bowed her head in concentration as she attempted to balance herself with the force. It was getting harder to find at the necessary serenity to draw upon her powers. it seemed the force that had seemed to surround her now ran from her. Before it had ebbed and flowed with an inevitable tide, now it seemed that it raged around her. This was the result of Darth Revan and the returned Sith Empire, Emera reflected savagely. As they twisted the force to their dark ends, the balance of the force was disrupted.

Emera knew that she should sleep, that once she was rested her vigor would return, but she needed to know now. She clenched her fingers into her palms as she sought to achieve the necessary serenity to see into the future, but it wasn't coming. Her doubts, her fears were clouding her vision and all she could see were visions from within her own head. Amplified by her doubts, she saw every fear that she had ever possessed drawn before her eyes. A virtual parade of her failures danced before her eyes. The eyes of those who had fallen under her command seemed to stare at her in condemnation. Every decision that she had made was questioned in her mind's eye. In her weariness she just couldn't summon the necessary discipline to draw upon the Force. With a growl of frustration, Emera rose to her feet in anger at her weakness, only to suddenly find the necessary power to bathe her mind into the possibilities of Force vision wash over her. All at once her mind went into the future and she lamely stumbled back down into a sitting position on her temporary bed and crossed her legs and delved deep into the jedi vision.

As she strove to seek out her future she flinched as she saw the slaughter, death and destruction that was coming. She saw the rise of the Darklord Revan and the misery and suffering that the Sith would bring. Despair overcame her as the darkness bore down upon her like a physical weight threatening to wash her away. Her breath came in haggard gasps as she sought to maintain her control. Her sacrifice had meant nothing. The destruction of the lane beacons had done little to prevent the coming hurricane. It was inevitable, nothing could stop it. It was almost as if it were the will of the force. It didn't make any sense. Every avenue that Emera sought lead to the same inescapable conclusion - The Republic will fall and the Sith Empire will rise in its place.

In vain she sought out her own future. Would she live to see such calamity? Would she be amongst the inglorious dead who were trampled under Revan's heeled boot? Would she somehow be spared? She didn't see that escape was possible and she hoped that at least her death was quick.

Her masters had once warned her not to seek out her own future, particularly her death. They had claimed that such knowledge would bring no comfort and would only bring misery. They claimed that in seeking to avoid such fate, one could often ensure that it came to pass.

Emera ignored the stern faces of her teachers in the forefront of her mind. Besides, she wasn't seeking to avoid her death – she was looking for it. She had no desire to live through such times that were to come. She had no desire to struggle against a foe that she knew could not be defeated. She was tired and she simply wanted all this to end. She had hoped that the Force would show a quick death and final rest, but that wasn't to be. The Force was conflicted about her fate and Emera despaired.

The Force wasn't done with her after all. There was some decision that she hadn't made that would finally decide the future. The weight of the responsibility bore down upon her heart with the weight of a collapsing star. She could catch only glimpses of her future but what she saw terrified her. It was difficult to see, the images were disjointed and made little sense, but one thing was clear. Riam was right. She would kneel before him.

It wasn't going to go the way that Riam had anticipated. Her last vision before she forcibly tore herself from the force vision was a horrifying one. She saw herself with the yellowed eyes of one corrupted by the darkside, plunging a crimson bladed lightsaber into the chest of her former friend. She would kill him on the deck of his own cruiser.

With a strangled shriek she cast her eye away from the possibilities of the future and was plunged back into the present. The red glow of the room surrounding her seemed prophetic as she returned to her small room. The red glow across her fingers beneath her repulsed her as the thought pushed its way through her consciousness. It was almost as if her flesh already reflected the red hue of the Sith lightsaber that was her destiny.

Emera's mind could only focus on one fact - She would turn to the dark side. She would do so to end Riam. The message of the vision was clear. If she wanted to kill Riam she would need to turn to the dark side to do so. There were no other paths available to her.

With shaking fingers she brushed her hair from her clammy forehead as he pondered on the ramifications of what she had seen. She knew more than anyone that Force visions weren't locked in stone. They could be wrong, yet she had never had one so clear before. Even as she tried to talk herself out from it she knew truth for what it was. If she was to stop Riam she would need to embrace the dark side herself. That would be the cost. The only question would be would she pay it?

Emera sat in silence as she contemplated her options, too fearful to draw back on the force; she analyzed the details of the vision. Indistinct details were brought into clarity and plans were made and rejected. In the end one thing was clear. If Riam wasn't stopped many people would suffer under his hand. It was his life for the thousands that would be displaced by his cruelty and if she needed to embrace the dark side to end him – then it was a trade she would gladly make.

She must have only been sitting for a few minutes after her vision, but to Emera it felt like hours until she had finally reached her decision. With a confident grimace on her face she left her temporary quarters and returned the flight deck. Some semblance of order had been regained and Emera watched as Admiral Ghir directed the various repair teams throughout the ship.

"My Lady," The Admiral nodded, when he saw Emera approach.

"Set a course for Rumarh." Emera's voice was cold as her gaze crossed over the Admiral's tired features.

"I've only just received notification that the hyperdrive is back online." Ghir stammered, attempting to dissuade her. "We are in no position to engage in battle again so soon. We have at least three weeks of repairs."

Emera didn't need to be told this. She knew damned well the condition of the ship. She already seen everything she needed to know through the force. She stared impassively at the republic officer. She could see the fear behind the man's eyes. She knew as well as he did just how tentative their position was here. The ship might be able to make hyperspace, but it was a gamble that they would survive the journey. The pressures of the jump could tear the ship apart. Fortunately, Emera knew with certainty that this would not be the case. The ship would make it to Rumarh. She had seen it.

"You have your orders." Emera finished coldly as she turned and left the flight deck. She could have told them that she'd had a force vision and that everything would be okay. She could have said that the ship would survive the journey. It would have helped moral and keep up the spirits of an already beleaguered crew. The only reason she didn't was that she knew better than anyone that this was a lie. Everything was not going to be okay. The ship would make it to Rumarh, but It would never leave the system.

There was another rush of activity as the Admiral attempted to comply with her demands. An already exhausted crew doubled their efforts to attempt to get the ship ready for jump.

"My Lady," Admiral Ghir murmured deferentially, "We can jump in three hours."

"You have two, Admiral," Emera replied swiftly as she left the flight deck. She didn't look back.


End file.
